


Mated and pregnant

by rhapsodybree



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 09:04:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15602982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhapsodybree/pseuds/rhapsodybree
Summary: When he ran away, Dean Winchester swore that he would never conform to the Omega stereotype. But when John Winchester blows back into his life 15 years later, guess how he finds him.Mated and pregnant.





	Mated and pregnant

The alarm sounds and Dean groans as he reaches over to turn it off. Rolling over onto his back, he’s already anticipating his mate settling his head on his shoulder and slipping a hand under his shirt to splay across his stomach.

“Too ‘rly,” the voice grumbles.

He grins as he presses a kiss to his crown and runs fingers through the perpetually messy hair. “You’re not the one that actually has to get up,” he snorts.

A hot breath huffs at his neck. Dean lays there a minute longer before hugging his dozing other half and slipping from the octopus limbs, even as they grab for him again.

“Gotta get up babe.” He leans down to press a kiss to the frowning brow. “Tomorrow’s the weekend and I promise we can snuggle to your heart’s content.”

Well, what do ya know. He’s asleep again already.

He wastes no time getting dressed, throwing on worn jeans, black t-shirt and checked flannel before applying scent blockers. He grabs breakfast – blueberries on toast it is today, along with the precious coffee – before setting the timer once again for when his grouchy mate gets up in an hour. Snagging his jacket, he slips out to the Impala and drives the short distance to _Singer Auto._

The day passes quickly, even with Bobby threatening to put him on desk duty. It’s bad enough he can’t go under the cars, no way is anyone taking away his opportunity to lean over the bonnet for as long as he can. That doesn’t mean that he can’t get one last tease in to the beta as he prepares to leave.

“Get out of here you idjit before I make you work tomorrow.”

Dean laughs as steps out the door, shrugging his jacket on. Reaching up to fix the collar, he freezes.

_Leather and burnt grease._

He's doesn't want to look...

_No._

... for standing there against his baby, is John Winchester _._

The man he hasn’t seen for 15 years.   


His phone is then somehow in his hand, already speed-dialling his brother.

“Can I call you back? I’ve got a case…”

“Sammy.”

There must have been something in his tone. “Dean? What’s going on?”

“Dad’s here.”

“You at work still?”

“Yes.”

“Be there in five.”

His fingers fumble over a text before he slips his phone back into his pocket.

_Gonna b late._

(He won’t see the responses until later, much later. _Is everything okay? Dean? Sweetheart, text me. Please. Dean._ )

The initial shock has passed and now all he feels is anger. Gritting his jaw, he steps out into the yard.

“Dean.”

“Dad.”

You could cut the tension, the silence that follows, with a knife. Dean holds his head high, refusing to drop his head to the Alpha in submission.

The standoff is interrupted by an eco-friendly Prius screeching to a stop and a tall man holding himself out of the car and looking around frantically. The relief is apparent on his face and Dean spares him a glance to nod stiffly before Sam is at his side in seconds.

“Hello boys.”

 

* * *

 

They end up at The Roadhouse in their usual booth. Jo bounces over and it’s John who barks out the order for three beers.

“Dad, Dean ca-”

“Zip it Sammy.”

“What, a beer isn’t good enough for you?” scoffs John.

Dean’s smile is tight as he turns the wary blonde. “Three beers please Jo.”

The drinks arrive shortly after and Dean takes one, condensation cooling his palm as he starts to pick at the label.

“What are you doing here Dad,” he finally asks after John Winchester downs a third of his own beer.

“What, a guy can’t check in on his sons?”

 _Not when you haven’t seen them for fifteen years_ , thought Dean viciously.

He doesn’t respond, and neither does an anxious looking Sam. And it’s in his brother’s direction the next comment is addressed.

“Had to see how Sammy turned out.” The older man grins. “An Alpha, just like his dad.”

 _And not like you_ , are the unspoken words.

“So tell me, got a good Omega for you at home? Couple of pups?”

Sam fumbles. “Ah, I do have a mate. Her name is Eileen. And actually it’s De-” Dean’s eyes fly up to catch Sam’s. Jaw clenched, he shakes his head minutely. “- we’re still thinking of pups…” he trails off instead, taking a sip of his own beer.

He almost chokes when John slaps his back. “There’s my boy. Don’t wait too long though. Gotta show who is boss you know, get that Omega knocked up and show them their place so they don’t get any ideas. Plus got to pass on that Winchester name and our good strong genes.”

Dean tightens the grip on his untouched beer feeling sick.

John leans forward knowingly, as if they’re sharing a joke. “Aren’t I right son? Omegas need an Alpha to set them right. Just you wait until you have a pup of your own and you’ll understand how difficult it is being a parent. Take it from me.” He gulps down the last of his beer. “Another drink woman!”

He’s going to be sick.

Stumbling upright, he can’t take it any longer.  The walls are pressing in on him and memories long suppressed coming back with a roar.

“What’s going on here?” comes the annoyed voice. “I haven’t finished my drink yet bitch.”

He freezes, unable to breathe.

“Go Dean.”

He’s never been so thankful for his brother than he was then. Sweating, he rushes from the bar, not seeing the concerned looks from the two women behind the counter. Throwing open the door, he takes a gulp of fresh air.

Stumbling down the side of the building, he braces a hand against the wall and throws up. Hidden from the entrance and car park, he slides down to the ground, arms on bent knees as his head drops forward and he’s there all over again.

_An Omega? What the fuck am I supposed to do with an Omega for a son?_

_Dean? Where are you going? I need to get away from here Sam. You’re leaving? I have to. Take me with you. What? Don’t leave me here with Dad. Sammy… Take me with you Dean._

_I can smell the heat all over you. Get away from me. Lock yourself up until you’re done with it._

_How old are you boy? 18. 18 my arse. I’ll be 18 soon enough and I do good work. We’ll see soon enough you idjit._

_This is Alastair. He’s going to be your Alpha. Every Omega needs to learn their place and he’s going to teach you yours._

_Slut._

“Dean.”

_Whore._

“Dean.”

_Bitch._

“Dean!”

_Good for nothi-_

He slams back into reality when the scent of petrichor and honey balm fills his senses. His nose is being held against a neck, one hand fiercely clutching a trench coat, the other pressed firmly the small rounded belly under his shirt.

_Mate._

_Safe._

_Home._

_Pup._

_Cas._

He takes a shaky breath as the need for oxygen lessens. He allows himself another minute of comfort before his grip loosens and he lifts his head to catch the worried blue eyes looking down at him. A hand runs softly through his hair, slipping to squeeze his neck.    


“Are you okay?” It's Sam who speaks. _  
_

“Fine,” he replies shortly as he tugs himself upright.

“Dean…”

He interrupts his brother. “Where is he?”

“He’s still inside. Ellen is going to make sure he stays there.”

He desperately needs to get away from all of this. Now. _  
_

He turns and heads for the Impala. “I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

“Dean…”

He spins around. “No Sam, I don’t want to talk about this right now. The bastard can stay in there for all night I care, but I am out of here.”

“I know… I…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Sammy.”

“Dean…”

“Please Sam.” He struggles to keep his emotions in check.

There’s a sigh of resignation. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He fishes for his keys and just knows that his mate and younger brother are talking about him behind his back. _He’s not some fragile flower who’s going to break damnit._ Opening the door, he slips in behind the wheel.

Cas slips into the passenger seat shortly after and he starts the car, pulling out of the lot. There’s not a word spoken, just a steady solid presence beside him, for which he is eternally grateful.

He parks the car and unlocks their front door. Dragging Cas in behind him, he slams it shut and presses his body against the hard surface.

His emotions are all over the place and there’s only one thing he needs right now.

“Fuck me Cas.”

His mate looks as if he might deny him, but then his lips are on his and the familiar spark is burning between them.

Dean sleeps in Cas’ arms that night.

 

* * *

 

He barely sleeps. As dawn creeps in, Dean rests his head on the steady beat of Cas’ heart, taking comfort from the warm arms around him as he forces himself to remember the good in place of the bad.

_Sam flourishing at school, doing homework at the garage. Sam presenting as an Alpha at fifteen – and already almost the same height as him. Sam heading off to Stanford with a full ride to study law. Meeting his mate there, mating Eileen. And coming back home._

_Bobby taking a chance on him. The beta had known he was lying about his age. He was 17 with a 13 year old brother to look after. And yet he’d given him a job, and ordered them to take up residence with him, cos all those rooms that were just sitting there empty. And sleeping in a car is no good you idjits._

_And then there was Castiel._

_Meeting Cas, the first time the hapless Alpha came into the shop with car trouble, nothing like any Alpha he’d ever met before. They’d struck up a friendship, even with Dean taking suppressants and wearing blockers, determined to hide what he was. It had taken months to become something more as Dean fought the mutual attraction for as long as he could. He’d discovered later that Cas had always known he was an Omega, he just hadn’t cared. He’d wanted Dean, not his designation. And then they too had mated and in just over five months, their family was going to grow._

John Winchester could not take that away from him.

He’s drawn from his revelations by a warm hand running through his hair.

“I can hear you thinking.” The voice rumbles in his ear.

He turns to prop his chin on his mate’s chest, pressing his taut bump into his side.

“Hello Dean.”

He had to smile at that familiar phrase. “Hey Cas.”

Reaching up, he presses a soft kiss to his lips, taking the intimacy that he craves. He parts regretfully moments later to brace himself up.   


“I need to call Sam.”

 

* * *

 

When John Winchester knocks on the door later that day, he’s ill-prepared for the defiant son that opens it in jeans and a grey Henley. It’s a tight-fitting shirt and John instantly sees the exposed mating mark and small bump protruding below crossed arms.

“Well, well, well,” he smirks as he steps in. “Looks like you learned your place after all.”

Dean grits his jaw and doesn’t say a word, shutting the door before leading the way to the kitchen diner where his other son and two unknown people stand.

“Mr Winchester? I’m Castiel Winchester-Novak, Dean’s husband.”

John’s brow wrinkles as he takes in the appearance of the wrinkled man before him, who clearly has some new-fangled ideals. _An Alpha taking his Omega’s name. I mean, really?_ The handshake is surprisingly firm though.

“And this is my mate Eileen.” It was Sam introducing the short woman beside him, moving his hands as he spoke.

His lip curls. “Is there something wrong with her? Is she deaf and dumb or something?”

“Just deaf,” was the response from the smiling woman.

“Why on earth would you want a defective mate?” he asks Sam incredulously. He never saw the anger that flashed across his son’s face, or the restraining hand his mate placed on his arm, even as she was summarily dismissed for her brother-in-law.

“And what is it you do?”

“I’m an accountant.”

“What kind of a job is that?” he scoffs.

Castiel blinks. “I am responsible for maintaining, reviewing and inspecting financial accounts. It involves numbers and…”

“I’m not stupid,” he interrupts heatedly.

“I never implied such a thing,” comes the bland response.

He needs a new target and his eyes zone in on Dean near the stove. “Bare foot, pregnant and in the kitchen ha,” he jokes.

No one laughs.

“I have been advised that I can’t ‘cook for shit’,” comes the response from Castiel. _Did he just use air quotes?_ He never saw the wry smile that adorned his oldest son’s face. “And so it is down to Dean to make sure that we don't starve.”

He waves the comment away. “What does it take to get a drink in this place?”

“A trip to the store.”

And so John Winchester blew into their lives, and just as quickly blows out of it. His parting salvo, which once upon a time would have hurt a hell lot more than it did now, was delivered with a swing of a whisky bottle.   


“Where did it all go wrong?”


End file.
